


Poke Check

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 11:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: There’s cold beer in the fridge and the back half of a home-and-home against Vegas tomorrow, and that’s plenty enough reason for celebration.





	Poke Check

**Author's Note:**

> in this particular hockey au.......kagahimu play for the yotes & aomura for vegas
> 
> d e s e r t h o c k e y

There’s cold beer in the fridge and the back half of a home-and-home against Vegas tomorrow, and that’s plenty enough reason for celebration, Taiga thinks. He grabs a can from close to the back, big enough for all four of them to split without anyone ruining their diet, the kitchen floor warm under his socks (he’d thought about rollerblading in; Tatsuya’s done it and it makes Taiga want to kill him for the streaks on the floor but it’s probably not worth it right now. Outside he can hear the telltale sound of the plastic stick on the rubber ball, the bounce familiar. All three voices are sounding, but Taiga’s got no clue what they’re saying. It’s nice to kind of eavesdrop like this, but it’s nicer to be out there.

Arizona in the winter is one of Taiga’s favorite places to be, a warm and dry refuge from all the soggy cold northern cities he travels to so frequently. LA is home, of course, and Vegas isn’t bad, but there’s something about having a huge backyard, what amounts to a small rink they can skate on, while still being part of the quote-unquote metro Phoenix (three cars in the driveway, right off the freeway, yeah it’s pretty fucking metropolitan—not that it's not exactly what Taiga wants). And being in the same division as Daiki and Atsushi means getting them here for a weekend or two every season, when the weather’s good and they’re not all too exhausted from the grind.

Tatsuya’s still playing with the ball on the end of his stick, going forehand-backhand-forehand when Taiga comes out. Daiki and Atsushi are kneeling at the far side of the court, their attention caught by a rabbit peering out of the shrubs. Seeing the two of them in a staring contest with a small animal is pretty fucking amusing; Taiga pulls out his phone to get a few shots. The shutter sound is loud; the rabbit doesn’t move but Atsushi extends one hand to give Taiga the finger (at least he’d gotten one kind of cute picture).

“You good?” says Tatsuya.

Taiga sips some of the head off the beer and sets it down on the cheap plastic table they keep out here. “Yeah.”

Tatsuya skates over, flipping the ball up into his bare hand, tucking his stick under his arm and picking up the beer to take a swig. Taiga raises his eyebrows.

“I was thirsty,” says Tatsuya. “Still am.”

He’s smiling; Taiga snorts and man, his skates cannot get back on fast enough. Daiki’s still trying to coax the rabbit over toward him; Atsushi’s slumped back on his hands and looks bored with the whole thing, or like he’s trying to look bored with the whole thing. His face is a little tender as it watches Daiki; the two of them can be so fucking cute when they’re not even trying and then go right back around to being vicious on the ice. Taiga sighs.

Tatsuya drops the ball again, bouncing it under his blade; he’s getting impatient and Taiga doesn’t blame him. He hauls himself to his feet, adjusting all over again to the added height of the wheels, the ground underneath him. He steals the ball out from under Tatsuya’s stick, but mostly because Tatsuya’s letting him.

Tatsuya checks him, not all that hard, but Taiga checks Tatsuya back; the ball skips over both of their sticks and Tatsuya’s already skating off to get it, the familiar sound of his wheels over the ground more familiar and resonant than the thumping bass lines of the songs they play in the arena before the faceoff. The sound of hockey’s gotten Atsushi and Daiki to turn; the rabbit takes its chance to flee back into the bushes.

“You done yet?” Taiga calls.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the one who went on the beer break first,” says Daiki, clamoring to his feet.

Taiga’s dusty old worn-out skates look good on his feet; Taiga wears a half-size bigger than Daiki now but always goes a half-size smaller with skates; he needs them tight around his feet and ankles (Daiki wears them even sized but somehow it works even with his loose skating; Taiga’s never going to figure that out).

“Speaking of which,” says Daiki, skating over to the table to grab the can.

“Skate harder first,” says Taiga.

Daiki sticks out his tongue and Taiga almost doesn’t see Atsushi coming like he’s about to crash into him, spinning on his wheels at the last second (he’s always going on and on about people doing that; it’s his number-one goalie pet peeve when they spray him with snow but—there’s no snow on the ground here, Taiga supposes).

“Are we playing or not?” Atsushi says, bumping his shoulder.

“If that one gets done,” Taiga says, pointing at Daiki.

“Let’s play without him,” says Atsushi. “Me and Tatsuya against you.”

“Fuck you, no,” says Taiga.

“Can’t take us?” says Atsushi.

Taiga’s not even going to dignify that with a response.

“Me and Tatsuya versus you two!” Daiki shouts. “Come on, let’s kick their asses.”

Taiga’s about to protest and it looks like Atsushi is, too, but Tatsuya skates over to Daiki and bumps him; Daiki holds out the can of beer for him, and fuck it.

“We’ll win,” says Atsushi under his breath.

Daiki scores the first goal, off a slick pass from Tatsuya, something Atsushi easily could have blocked.

“No pads, you fucking block it,” Atsushi says, shoving at Taiga with his shoulder.

Taiga shoves back, ignoring Daiki’s over-the-top tacky celly (see him use that one in a game) until he pulls Tatsuya in for a kiss, working around their helmets somehow. Fuck, they look cute; Taiga slows, shuffling his feet to keep his balance, the roll of his wheels almost silent against the ground. Atsushi mirrors him, dropping an arm around his waist and, well.

Daiki’s kissing Tatsuya’s sweaty helmet and Tatsuya, laughing, turns toward them; he beckons and he doesn’t have to do anything else. Atsushi crashes into them, groping at Daiki from Tatsuya’s other side; Taiga comes in slower, dropping his stick and twining his fingers in between Tatsuya’s and letting Daiki cop a feel of his ass (it’s nice in the middle of the season, Taiga’s more than willing to admit that). Tatsuya kisses Taiga’s neck, the front of his helmet digging into Taiga’s skin; Taiga pulls Daiki in for a proper kiss, failing to avoid his helmet completely but close enough.

“Is this a congratulations on my victory?” Daiki says.

“Game ain’t over,” says Taiga.

Atsushi gives him a look of approval for that and it all feels pretty fucking good.


End file.
